


The Expunged Record

by boredom



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Child Abuse, Crimes & Criminals, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Foster Siblings, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Racism, Shiro (Voltron) is a Good Sibling, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom
Summary: During her snooping around the Garrison, Pidge discovers Shiro has a record; a record that has been erased by the Garrison. Turns out Shiro isn't much of a rule follower either, and the Paladins are in for a surprise when they realize exactly what they did.Alternatively titled: The week Shiro made increasingly worse and illegal decisions with Baby Keith in tow and somehow managed to land a Garrison Scholarship despite everything.





	1. Misdemeanors and Felonies

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea before I knew the actual ages of the paladins so Keith and Shiro's age difference is ten years apart instead of eight. I could change it, but I'm lazy so this is what you get. I love playing around with Shiro's character because I feel like he has so many sides the show doesn't explore.

It had been bothering Pidge for awhile. She thought she knew everything about Shiro. He came over for dinner often, was friends with Matt and her father, seemed to be the golden boy of the Garrison; a shining example of maturity and serious, devoted study the garrison wanted all their students to embody. Hell, she even broke into his file during her snooping around the Garrison to see if anything strange popped up. It did, but instead of answering her questions, it just gave her more. 

Shiro had a record. 

And it wasn’t just any record, oh no, it was a record that needed to be expunged. 

The Garrison didn’t mind if kids had a criminal record when they applied as long as they didn’t get arrested while at the school. However, they did have standards and those standards stated that if a student had a felony charge or a certain number of misdemeanors, they weren’t allowed to attend. That meant that Shiro did something; something bad. 

That bothered Pidge because Shiro seemed like the last person on Earth who would ever commit a crime big enough that it would need to be expunged from his record to attend the Garrison. So she did what she always did when something was bothering her: talked to Lance and Hunk.

“Do you think he killed someone?” Lance seemed a little too pleased with this idea. 

“No, probably not. Even if he did, I doubt the Garrison would want him,” Hunk said. 

Pidge rolled her eyes. She had asked Lance and Hunk’s opinion because she thought they might provide some insight. Instead the conversation devolved into some ludicrous story about Shiro being a spy and committing all sorts of felonies to “gather intel”. 

“Guys, focus. What could Shiro have done when he was sixteen that was bad enough to need it expunged?” 

“Why don’t we ask him?” Ah, Allura, always the voice of reason. It was the simplest solution, but there was still the fact that Shiro might say no and Pidge would continue to wonder forever. No, they needed to be sneaky about this.

“I’m wondering why you didn’t open it up anyways.” Hunk added. “You probably could have with your skills.” He wiggled his fingers in a fashion that indicated her hacking.

“It wasn’t a matter of if I could do it; I had more important things to focus on.”

“Oh, oh!” Lance leapt up on the chair. “What if he was spying in Russia and got arrested and managed to get back across the border?”

“For the last time, he wasn’t a spy!” Pidge snapped. 

“Who wasn’t a spy?” 

Damn, Shiro had wandered into the lounge with Keith in tow. 

Come to think of it, Keith had known Shiro for awhile. Maybe he knew about his past. She should ask him the next time they were alone. She had to be careful, though, Keith wasn’t talkative and it was always a question as to whether or not he was in a good enough mood to give her what she wanted. First, though, she had to make sure Shiro wasn’t suspicious. He would shut down their inquiries if he found out. 

“No one!” Pidge said at the exact moment that Allura said “You.” 

Keith snorted and flopped down on the couch. Shiro furrowed his brow. “Why would you think I was a spy for Russia?”

“Not for Russia,” Lance clarified, “in Russia, for the U.S.” 

“Thanks for the clarification. Though, that doesn’t really answer my question.” 

She racked her brain for a plausible lie. It had to be something that Lance, Hunk, and Allura would catch onto and easily add too. It also had to be plausible enough that Shiro would believe it. Shiro was still staring at them. Oh, crap, how long had she been trying to figure out a lie? 

“Um.” Her brain wasn’t working. All it was coming up with was the words to the Route 66 Waffle Shack theme song somewhere along I-10. 

Shiro crossed his arms and stared at them with the Owl Gaze (patent pending).

“Um… when I was looking for clues about the Kerberos Mission back at the Garrison I read through your file and noticed you had a criminal record that was expunged.” It all came out in one breath and in a rush before she could stop herself. Only Shiro and her mother had the ability to force her to tell the truth with only a look.

Shiro went remarkably pale remarkably quickly. 

Keith, on the other hand, sat up and grinned. “Really, did you read through it?” 

She shook her head. “I didn’t have time.” 

He deflated. So either he knew what was on the file, or he knew that Shiro had a record and was interested to hear about Pidge’s findings. Interesting.

“Um, let’s not drag up the past. I haven’t broken the law since.” He paused. “At least, I haven’t broken laws on Earth since.” 

“You go an average of twenty miles over the speed limit every time you get behind the wheel of a car,” Keith said. 

“Not in school or construction zones!” Shiro hastily added. 

“You started drinking well before you turned twenty one.” 

“Only one beer at the parties I attended.” 

“How many times did you steal speeders for joy rides?” 

“None of that is important and I followed every other rule!” Shiro’s voice was getting high and he was sounding more desperate. 

This was better than Pidge could have hoped for. She knew Shiro had a rebel side, but she figured it was always toned down and more along the lines of not flipping your mattress every six months, despite what the tag said. 

“You should tell them,” Keith said. “It’s an awesome story.” 

“So you know!” Lance gasped, pointing and accusatory finger at Keith. “You knew about Shiro’s sordid past and you didn’t say anything?” 

“I mean, it’s his privacy and if he doesn’t want you to know, he doesn’t have to tell you.” 

Not even Lance could argue with that and he sat back down. 

“Come on, Shiro, please tell us what happened,” Hunk said. “I’m dying to know. You always seem so put together. What did you do that was so bad the Garrison had to erase it?” 

“It wasn’t one thing,” Keith said. He was clearly trying to get Shiro to talk, but Shiro seemed to be closer and closer to having a panic attack. 

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Allura said. “But I agree, it would be nice to know about each other’s past.” 

He looked at Keith. “Are you sure you want me to tell them? I thought you didn’t want people to know.” 

“It’s different with them. I trust them,” Keith said. 

Well things just got a lot more complicated if Keith was somehow involved with all of this. Pidge tried to think back to what her brother had said about Keith and Shiro. She couldn’t remember ever hearing a story about how they met and if it happened when Shiro was sixteen, that would have made Keith around six or seven. She didn’t think they had known each other for so long. But if that was the case, then it made sense why they seemed so close to one another. 

Shiro nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Everyone cheered.

“But you can’t take anything I did as something good. It was reckless and I made a lot of stupid decisions.” 

“We survived.”

“You were in the hospital for three weeks!” 

“Yeah, and I left there alive and with all my limbs intact. Besides, you were pretty badass.” Keith smiled. 

“No, no I wasn’t. There was a better way to handle the situation and I did not do it.” 

“What was the better way of handling the situation?” Keith stared at him, eyebrows raised and waiting for an answer. 

Shiro let out a strangled noise and sat down. “Um, later. I can’t think of it now.”

“Yes, later.” Lance agreed. “Come on, quit stalling and tell us what happened.” 

Pidge agreed. She needed to know what happened and listening to Keith and Shiro talk only made her more curious. It was something that Shiro did when he was sixteen and Keith was six. And it was something that put Keith in the hospital for a few weeks. And it ended with Shiro having either several misdemeanors or a felony conviction. And despite all of this he still managed to come out of it with a scholarship to the Garrison and go on to become one of the best pilots in the world. 

“So,” Shiro took a deep breath. “So, as I said before I didn’t really handle the situation properly and continued to make a lot of really bad, consecutive decisions that put my life and Keith’s life at risk. But at the time, and still thinking about it today, I felt like I had no other choice.”

Everyone scooted closer. 

“When I was about ten years old, my parents died in a car accident. I had no other family in the U.S., so I was put into foster care. After bouncing around a bit, I ended up with Roger and Susan Sheppard. Susan was pretty nice.” 

“She made good lasagna,” Keith added. 

Shiro laughed. “Yeah, she did make a pretty good lasagna. She used both marinara and alfredo sauce. Anyways, Susan was nice. Roger was another story and it didn’t take long for me to realize that I wasn’t going to have a happy life in that house.”


	2. Child Abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for child abuse, mentions of homophobia, and racism... Isn't this story fun?

Montana, Shiro decided, freaking sucked. Maybe there were some nice parts with mountains and cool animals and stuff, but where he ended up was awful. It was a small one-stoplight town you could spit across. It used to be a bustling mining town, but now that coal was going the way of the Dodo, and with little support for “hippie” fuels, it had quickly devolved into a town full of unemployment, addiction, and misery. 

Shiro ended up in White Falls after his sixth group home kicked him out for getting into fights. They didn’t care that he got into fights because some of the older kids were picking on the younger ones, destroying their stuff and beating on them. They just cared that Shiro was starting fights and he needed to be placed somewhere that would “discipline” him. 

That’s how he ended up with Roger and Susan Sheppard. Roger was an ex-cop, now working at the local church and Susan worked at the local Long John Silver’s that was along I-15. Their house was small and bland, the decorations all looked to be something out of the eighties and the colors were shades of brown and beige. Their yard was one of the nicer ones on the street, but the grass was still dead and there wasn’t much around for Shiro to do. 

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time here,” Susan said, smiling as she dished up some lasagna.

“Now, Takashi,” Roger mispronounced his name as Takeshi, “I don’t want you thinking that we’re going to be friends. I intend to take on the role as your guardian and as such, you’re not going to like me most of the time. But that’s what good parents do, they make their kids do what’s best, even if the kids don’t want to do it.” 

He bit his tongue. He didn’t need a new set of parents. He wanted his own parents; the ones who were there for his first steps, his first words, the ones who gave him his first book about space and who let him in simulators whenever they could manage. These people were just supposed to keep him alive and out of jail until he was eighteen and wasn’t the system’s problem any more. 

“It says that you got into fights at your last home. That’s not going to happen here.” Roger continued. 

Shiro spooned some lasagna up and took a bite. It was actually… good. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a home cooked meal that wasn’t mass produced with the cheapest ingredients. 

“The lasagna’s really good,” he said. 

Susan beamed and scooped some more onto the plate. “Eat up, you’re too skinny.”

“Dammit, Susan,” Roger said, his voice becoming sharp. “I need some of that for leftovers tomorrow. They cut your shifts and we don’t have enough money to be gorging ourselves.” 

Susan pursed her lips and set the spoon down. “It’s just a little more. Besides, Roger, this is a special occasion. We want Takashi to feel welcome here.” She pronounced his name correctly. 

The rest of dinner was largely silent and Shiro was feeling very uncomfortable. There was something off about Roger. The way he snapped earlier was weird and made him wonder about what went on behind closed doors. 

He knew as soon as he rolled into White Falls that he was not going to have a good time here, but now that he had gotten through his first dinner with the Sheppards, he was sure that this was going to be the worst three years of his life. 

At first it was little things. Roger would snap at Susan for spending too much money, or Shiro for not doing the dishes properly. It made him feel as though he were walking on eggshells. However, he hadn’t had an actual mother and father for awhile, so maybe this was the way things always were. Besides, like most of the town, the Sheppards were having money troubles, which was enough to put stress on anyone. Once Susan was promoted to shift manager and got some extra cash, things would be getting better. 

Roger made Susan quit her job. His reasoning was that as the man of the house, it was his job to provide for them. An argument broke out and it turned out this was not the first job Roger had made Susan quit. Apparently she had done bookkeeping for the local construction company a few years ago and constantly complained about money once she was out of a job, which is why she got another one in the first place. He threw a plate a the wall and stormed off to go for a drive. Susan was numb as she and Shiro picked up the pieces. When he came back, he reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, but apologized for the plate. Susan quit her job the next day. 

After that money became tighter and as the only one ‘making any goddamn money in this house’, Roger had a say in everything that happened. Shiro started going longer without new clothes, which was a problem since he was still growing an inch a week. His shoes were too tight, his pants were too short, and it was only thanks to some foresight to buy his hoodie the next size up that meant he was able to still wear it. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one at school who looked like this. But he was the only Asian kid there which meant that the slurs started flowing and his patience got real thin real quick. 

His first fight had him sporting a black eye and split lip. It wasn’t from the other kid, Walter Zarkoff hadn’t even landed a punch. No, the black eye had been from Roger, who was angry that Shiro had gotten into a fight and decided the best way to teach him not to fight was to punch him. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back and now that Roger had thrown a punch, he didn’t stop. 

Shiro was getting slapped around constantly. He was yelled at, blamed for everything, told he was stupid and crazy, humiliated and beaten down. He tried to tell the police what was going on, but Roger was a retired cop. Roger would never do anything like this. Roger was the one that arrested Johnson for slapping around his wife. Takeshi was a punk-ass foster kid who was trying to hurt the morally upstanding Roger Sheppard who took Shiro in out of the goodness of his heart and shouldn’t Takshi be grateful he wasn’t turning tricks like other unwanted kids who were just a little too smart for their own good. 

So, Shiro stopped going to the police, stopped trying to find a way out, stopped trying to avoid the abuse. It would come no matter what he did.

Zarkoff yanked a piloting magazine out of Shiro’s hands. “Hey guys, Tashaki thinks he’s going to be a pilot.” His cronies all laughed as they encircled Shiro. 

“I’ve got a better chance than you. You can’t even pronounce my name right.” He snapped back. 

“Why don’t you have an American name? Is it because you hate America and are spying for China, you fucking commie.” 

“I’m Japanese, not Chinese.” He reminded himself that while Roger would abuse him no matter what, it was not in his best interest to start fights as that would make the punishments worse. 

“That’s the weirdos who jerk off to squids or something. You want a body pillow because you’re too much of a fucking loser to fuck an actual girl?” Clyde said. 

At least they didn’t know Shiro was gay. If that was the case, he’d probably be lynched in an instant. 

“I don’t see you getting any action. Besides, how do you know about body pillows unless you use one.” He stood up and walked away. He had saved up for that magazine for months, collecting cans and scrap so that he could continue to read up on all the latest advancements in the technology. Getting into the Garrison would be a dream come true and the recruiters were coming to Helena in two months to see if anyone had what it took to join. Shiro had been saving up for a bus ticket since he found out about it. The Garrison offered full-ride scholarships, and if he was good enough, he’d be made a ward of the actual school and could leave this shitty little town forever. Hell, if he was good enough, he might even be able to leave this shitty little planet forever. 

A hand grabbed him and pulled him back. “You really thinking of going to Helena to try out?” Zarkoff grinned. Clyde and Hunter stepped forward, fists clenched. Zarkoff held up a hand. “Now, now, boys, I don’t think we need to teach Tashaki a lesson today. He just needs to know that no matter what he does, he’ll never be good enough. My brother’s a pilot at the Garrison and they don’t give out scholarships easily.” He leaned in close to him and Shiro could smell the stink of cigarettes on his breath. “Why don’t you go work at Long John Silver’s? That’s all you’ll ever be good for.” 

Shiro took a deep breath and remembered what would happen to him if he punched Zarkoff’s stupid face. His father was friends with Roger, which meant that Roger would take Zarkoff’s side and Shiro would be lucky to get out of this confrontation without any broken ribs. 

“If you say so.” He stepped back and continued towards the school building. Zarkoff didn’t call after him and Shiro didn’t turn around to see if he was angry or not. He kept moving forward. That was all you could do when life seemed to be hell bent on beating you to a pulp. 

oOoOoOo

When Shiro got home after school, he was met with a pair of large purple eyes. 

“What the--”

“Ah, Takashi, good, you’re home,” Susan said, running up behind the kid who was still staring up at Shiro unblinkingly. It was kind of creepy (It was at this point that Lance wholeheartedly agreed that Keith’s stare was creepy. Then Allura pointed out that she was sure a very young Keith would be adorable and Shiro agreed. Keith was caught between trying to argue with Lance that he wasn’t creepy, and Shiro and Allura that he wasn’t adorable. Hunk teared up a bit at the thought of baby Keith and Pidge got them all back on track to talk about Shiro’s criminal history). 

“This is Keith, your new foster brother.” 

Shiro didn’t miss the way Keith flinched when Susan put her hand on his shoulder. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Shiro.” He stuck out his hand, unsure of what the protocol was for meeting children. Did you shake their hand? Hug them? Give them a fist bump?

“Now Takashi, you know Roger doesn’t like nicknames.” Susan ushered them into the dining room. 

Shiro thought that if Roger didn’t like nicknames, then he should learn to pronounce his name, but said nothing. Somehow, Roger always found out about the things Shiro had said. 

“What’s wrong with nicknames?” Keith asked, sliding up onto a chair and drinking a glass of milk Susan had put in front of him. 

“Um, it’s, um, I guess it’s informal. You should call someone by their proper names.” Susan struggled.

“It’s just a series of sounds. Who’s to say ‘Shiro’ isn’t a proper name?” Keith muttered. 

Oh, great, this kid was a questioner. This was bad because if you wanted to survive an abusive household, you couldn’t ask questions. You had to do everything without questions and if you tried to bring logic into a request, it would make life worse. 

“Let’s not talk about it now,” Susan said, clearly desperate to change the topic. “Takashi, Keith here just lost his father not too long ago.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” 

Keith snorted. “No your not. Grown ups say they’re sorry to hear about it, but they’re not, not really.” 

“Geeze, nihilistic much?” Shiro rolled his eyes. “And I am sorry to hear about that. I lost my parents too when I was ten. I know what it feels like to lose the people who were supposed to be there with you forever.” For the first time in a long time, he felt tears prickling up in his eyes. He had never had any proper counseling to deal with the deaths of his parents and as a result had largely resorted to stuffing his feelings down deep inside of him so as not to be seen as weak to the other kids. 

Keith stared at him and Shiro felt a rush of curiosity. Why had the Sheppards picked up another kid? Roger always complained about how much Shiro cost him and how they were struggling to make ends meet. Surely adding another dependent wouldn’t make things any easier on them. 

The phone rang and Susan excused herself. “Get to know each other. Takashi, I’m expecting you to be a good older brother for Keith so make sure you set a good example.” 

They were left alone and Keith continued to stare at him. Shiro stared back. His eyes were very unusual, being purple and all. That was bad. The other kids would sniff out the abnormality and tease Keith relentlessly for it. Then there was the question of Roger. Shiro had never seen the man hit Susan so it was possible that Keith might be safe from him. Then again, it was hard to tell who was safe from Roger. Oh, God, what if Roger really hurt Keith? Shiro didn’t know much about kids, but Keith seemed really small and really easy to break. 

“I think I’m just here because they want the money,” Keith said sliding the empty glass around the table. 

“What?” 

“They send them money once a week or something for taking care of me. That’s usually why I end up in homes.” 

Ah, yeah, that would make sense. If Roger wanted money then taking in a foster kid and getting money from the state would be the easiest way to do things, though that didn’t bode well for Keith’s wellbeing. The money was supposed to be put towards food, clothes, toys, and other things that would make Keith’s life better, not towards alcohol and strip clubs. 

“So, what about your mom?” Shiro said, desperate to not have a depressing conversation with a six year-old. He then realized that a conversation about his mother probably wasn’t much better since she didn’t seem to be in the picture. Susan had only mentioned a father.

Keith shrugged. “I don’t know. I think she died when I was little. Dad would always take me out to stargaze and tell me that she was up there watching over us.” (“Wow,” Pidge said, “Could your dad be any less subtle?” “I never figured it out, so yes.”)

Shiro nodded. “Um, I have some homework to do. Do you need, like, a coloring book or something?” 

“I’m not a baby.” Keith crossed his arms and pouted. He was kind of cute now that Shiro was getting used to that stare. 

“I don’t know what kids your age do.” Shiro threw his arms up in the air. 

Keith dug around his backpack and pulled out the same magazine Shiro had been reading earlier. 

“You want to be a pilot?” He needed to focus on his math homework. That was one of the hardest sections to pass on the Garrison entrance exam. 

“Yup.” Keith flipped through a few of the pages and settled on an article about updates in navigation software. “I want to go up to space and adopt a space dog, and a space hippo, and a space cat.” 

“Why not adopt an Earth dog, hippo, and cat?” He felt like one of those animals was not the same as the others. 

“Because they’re boring. I bet a space hippo would be able to shoot lasers out of its mouth. Oh, and, and, and a space cat would be like fifteen feet tall so I can ride it and a space dog could like teleport and fly and stuff!” 

Shiro couldn’t help but laugh. It had been awhile since he was in the company of someone who was not so worn down and bitter. 

“You gotta study hard then. Garrison scholarships are hard to get.” 

“I know.” Keith slumped down in his chair. Then he looked back at Shiro. “What about you, do you want to be a pilot.” 

“Yeah. I’m looking to get into the Fighter Class.”

“Why?” 

He wanted to say that it would give him an opportunity to leave this miserable planet where the last good memory he had was the Christmas before his parents died, but that would be a bit heavy to lay on a kid. Even if said kid probably understood what it was like to feel alone and abandoned. 

“I want to see what else is out there. And I agree with you on the space cat, it would be pretty cool to have a giant cat of my own.” 

“I want mine to be red.” 

“Black is the way to go. She’ll the perfect halloween decoration and if I ever decide to become a witch or goth, I’m halfway to getting the look down.” 

Shiro could almost forget what was going on in this house with Keith here. He could almost feel normal, like he was actually a well-adjusted kid with well-adjusted parents talking to his weird and imaginative brother. In the back of his mind, however, he was aware that things were not nice and Keith’s presence here would not make anyone happier. He looked on as Keith chartered excitedly about the new navigation system and the trials that were happening. He was innocent and vulnerable. Shiro had to figure out a way to protect him. The best case scenario would be that Roger would focus solely on him. The worst case scenario was that he would hurt them both, and Shiro knew he couldn’t let that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we'll find out what Shiro did. I needed some set up first though so you get this chapter.


	3. Kidnapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for implied rape/non-con, child abuse, blood, violence, all that fun stuff.

“Shiro, you have to help me!” Keith came bursting through the door of their room, his eyes wide with panic. 

“What? What’s wrong?” He stood up and let Keith barrel into his arms. The poor kid was shaking like a leaf. 

“I don’t know why, but I made him mad and he’s going to kill me.” 

“He’s not going to kill you.” He assured him, though given that it was Roger and he was likely drunk, it was always a possibility. “I won’t let him. I promise.” He couldn’t promise Keith that Roger wouldn’t hurt him, but Shiro would do his best to keep the kid alive. 

Keith’s appearance at the Sheppard household did not make things better. It also didn’t appear to make things worse, at least for Shiro, but it became very clear very quickly that Roger had no intention of not laying a hand on the kid. After the first night when Roger backhanded him for making too much noise while doing the dishes, Shiro gave up his dreams of going to the Garrison. Granted, he’d only leave Keith in two more years, but at least for now he could help protect him. 

Roger came storming through the door. His eyes fell on the pair. “Hand him over Takeshi.” 

“What did he do?” Shiro asked, hiding the little whimper that Keith let out. His knees were starting to hurt from how he was squatting, but he couldn’t bring himself to let Keith go. 

“It doesn’t concern you now hand him over or you’ll be in trouble.” 

Shiro jolted a bit, remembering all the times he didn’t listen to Roger. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Keith whimpered into his neck. 

He tightened his grip. “Look, he’s clearly sorry for what he did--”

He didn’t get to finish his thought because Roger turned bright red and lunged forward with a roar. 

Shiro let out a yelp and scrambled backwards with Keith still in his arms. It wasn’t enough, though as Roger grabbed Keith’s arm and yanked him out of Shiro’s arms. 

“No!” He scrambled to his feet and went to grab Keith. Roger whirled around and with his free hand, hit Shiro, hard. The world spun for a second and then he felt pain explode up the side of his temple. The world went dark and Shiro was unconscious.

oOoOoOo

It took him a moment to figure out what had happened. He was on the floor; his neck was bent at a weird angle; his head was throbbing; and someone was crying. He forced his eyes open and blinked a few times, only to be greeted with darkness. He blinked a few more times and the outline of his room came into dim focus. 

There was a small figure, huddled on the bed across from him and he recognized it as Keith. 

“Keith?” His voice was scratchy and his throat was dry. How long had he been out? He cleared his throat and tried again. “Keith, are you okay?”

He didn’t see him move, but Keith was by his side, small hands gently grasping Shiro’s shoulders. 

“You’re awake! I thought you were… but you were still breathing. I was afraid to move you.” 

Shiro groaned and rolled to his hands and knees. His head felt like someone was smashing it repeatedly with a hammer. “No, no, I’m alright. Just a bump.” 

It was a lie. If he had hit his head hard enough to go unconscious for what appeared to be several hours, he likely had a concussion. Still, he didn’t want to panic Keith and Roger probably wasn’t going to take him to the hospital. His heart stopped and he turned to grab Keith’s arms. 

“What happened? Did he hurt you?” 

“N-no. He just yelled.” 

Shiro took a deep breath to try and calm himself. Keith was lying and Shiro wanted nothing more than to scold him for hiding injuries, but if he did get angry, it could scare him away; likely forever. 

“If he did something, I need to know so I can help.” He tried to keep his voice as even as possible. “Where’s Roger now?” Maybe if he asked unassuming questions, he could get Keith to open up. 

Keith’s breathing hitched and Shiro recognized the oncoming signs of a panic attack. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want a hug?” Just because he could recognize the signs didn’t mean he had any idea what to do about it. 

Keith didn’t answer but burrowed himself into Shiro’s chest. Shiro decided to ignore the wet, sticky substance that seemed to be coating Keith’s skin and focus instead on keeping him from going into shock. 

He rubbed his back carefully, partially to calm the kid down and partially to feel if there were any broken ribs. It felt like everything was still in place. Keith slumped against him, his breathing much more even than before. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know where he went but Susan isn’t home yet and I don’t know what to do and what if he comes back?” 

He wanted to panic, but reminded himself that he had to focus. His first priority was making sure Keith didn’t have life-threatening injuries. If that was the case Shiro needed to call an ambulance and hope the 911 operator would dispatch some help to upstanding citizen Roger Sheppard’s house. 

“We’ll deal with it when he comes back. Did he say to stay in the room?” 

Keith nodded. 

“Alright, I’ll go get the first aid kit so we can treat your injuries. Can I turn on a light?” 

Keith nodded and let Shiro go. The lights hurt his eyes and made his head pound more, but he couldn’t focus on that right now. He had to focus on Keith. He braced himself and turned around. 

It wasn’t… as bad as he thought it was going to be. There was blood down the side of Keith’s face and his lip was definitely split. His t-shirt showed off a lot of hand prints up and down both of his arms. (“Jesus,” Lance said, “it was that bad?” Allura’s head bowed and she looked close to tears. “How could someone do that to a child?” Now that they were getting into the meat of the story, they were starting to realize what happened wasn’t fun and games.)

“Alright, alright. I can work with this,” he said, more to himself than anything. He was in charge here. He could handle this. 

“Are you going to be alright for a few minutes while I get the first aid kit?” 

Keith pouted and crossed his arms. “Yeah. I’m not--”

“A baby, I know, but I want to make sure. If you need me, holler and I’ll come running.” 

Keith nodded and Shiro took that as his cue to sprint down the hall before Roger could come back. The more he got done now, the less he would have to do later while the man sat there and screamed at him for some reason. His hands were shaking as he pulled down the old and battered first aid kit. Roger hadn’t held back on the verbal abuse towards Keith, and while Shiro knew that experiencing something like that on a regular basis wasn’t good, he thought that as long as it stayed that way, they could work through it. Now he knew that keeping Keith here in this house was dangerous. 

The clock struck and, causing Shiro to jump and stare at it. Roger was not the kind of person who would let Shiro stay once he turned eighteen. Which meant that in less than two years, Shiro would be out of the house and Keith would be left here until he aged out or someone finally noticed something was wrong. Or he… the statistics weren’t looking good for Keith’s survival. Shiro was bigger and had less time before he was on his own. Hell, he could probably get out of here sooner if he managed to make it to Helena on December 1st, almost a month away. 

Ah, who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to leave Keith in this house. 

“Shiro?” Keith called from the bedroom. 

Shiro grabbed a bowl of hot water and a washcloth and went back to the room. “Sorry, just making sure I had everything.” He smiled and began to wipe the blood off of Keith’s face. 

“Do you know how long Roger’s been gone? Or how many times the clock struck?” 

Keith winced as Shiro accidently touched a swollen bruise on his arm. “Um, I think four hours. I’m not sure.” 

If that was the case, then they’d probably have another hour or so before Roger came stumbling home drunk. If they were lucky, they’d have another four. 

Keith took off his shirt and Shiro bit his tongue so as not to curse. If his face and arms looked bad, his torso looked worse. 

“And you’re not having any trouble breathing, right?” The salve he had was expired by about two years and was more clumps than cream, but it was better than nothing. 

“No, I’m fine. It does kind of hurt to cough, I guess.” The kid was being a trooper. Other than the occasional wince he wasn’t crying or trying to pull away from Shiro. 

“Okay, good. And do you feel nauseous? Having any trouble focusing? That sort of thing?” He was trying to remember the symptoms of a concussion, but it was remarkably difficult to recall them when he was trying not to panic and to keep Keith calm. 

“No, my head hurts, but I’m fine.” 

Shiro wrapped a bandage around the last bruise and stepped back to admire his handiwork. He still needed to get the swelling to go down. “I’ll go get an ice pack, you can put your shirt back on. Maybe after that I’ll fix us some dinner.” 

Roger would be pissed, but Shiro couldn’t find it in himself to care. Keith needed to eat and to stop the swelling on his face and that was all there was to it. He walked back to the kitchen and stared at the refrigerator. It had once been white, but the years had turned it into a dull yellow-brown color. Is this how it was going to be for the next two years? Keith and Shiro getting slapped around, waiting in fear and then scrambling for scraps of medicine and food when he was gone. 

No. He made up his mind. He was not going to leave Keith with these people and he was not going to spend another minute in this house. The system had abandoned them. That’s why they were here in White Falls. That’s why the social worker had not shown up in months. That’s why the teachers and police officers all turned a blind eye to what was going on in the house. 

He was angry, furious at what was going on. He didn’t deserve this. Keith didn’t deserve this. They deserved better. He opened the freezer and pulled out all of the ice packs and all of the frozen foods. Then he went to the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the battered blue cooler with mold growing on the inside of it. Wiping it down, he dumped most of the frozen foods in along with several trays of ice he pulled from the freezer. He went back to the room and handed Keith an ice pack wrapped in a towel. 

“Put this on your cheek to help with the swelling. Then, pack your bags.” 

“What?” He took the ice pack and pressed it to his cheek. 

“We’re leaving.” 

Keith slid off the bed and pulled out the trash bag he had used to carry his things before. “Where are we going to go?” 

Shiro paused his own stripping of his closet. “Um, I’ll think of that later. Right now we have to leave before Roger gets back.” 

He could feel Keith’s hesitant gaze and turned, smiling and kneeling down to his level. “Listen, Keith, we don’t have to leave if you don’t want, but I think this is for the best. We’ll find somewhere, just the two of us. Okay?” 

Keith bit his lip and nodded. 

“Great. Be ready to go in fifteen minutes. I’ll go gather some other supplies.” He grabbed the last of his underwear and socks and stuffed them in a duffle bag along with the money he had been saving up for the trip to Helena. It wasn’t going to be nearly enough. 

He bit his lip. Roger kept a large chunk of money in the house. He didn’t trust banks. Shiro just had to find it. 

He slipped into Roger’s “office” (it really was more of a useless man cave he used to drink beer and play poker) and looked around. There was a gun safe tucked away in the corner and if Shiro was a betting man, he’d bet that Roger kept the money in there. Luckily, he also knew where Roger kept the keys to the safe. In the third shelf of his toolbox underneath the rubber mat. 

He found the key and quickly opened the safe. There was a shotgun, a handgun, and several bullets for each in there. In another little lockbox (unlocked, thank the lord) was a conservative estimate of about three thousand dollars in cash. (“Holy shit!” Pidge exclaimed, ignoring Shiro scolding her for cursing. “He had that much money and you guys weren’t able to have new clothes?” “He didn’t care about us,” Keith said. “Besides, I think he got it from playing poker.”)

He stuffed the cash in his pockets and went to leave the room. He stopped and turned back to the guns. There was no telling what Roger would do once he found out they had left, and there was no telling what kind of men were out on the road. He had seen enough true-crime documentaries to know that kids who go on the streets don’t survive for very long. He grabbed the shotgun and the handgun and a handful of bullets for each, stuffing them in his pockets, and left the office. 

He looked out the window and once again thanked the lord. Roger had two trucks his “hunting truck” (he never actually went hunting, normally just drank beer in the woods and then went to strip clubs) and his “work truck” (Shiro was starting to think that he didn’t even work). Roger had left his work truck and thanks to the driver’s ed course that was offered at his high school, Shiro could drive it. 

He grabbed the keys off the counter and went to put the guns and money in there before coming back and grabbing the cooler. He also grabbed a few boxes of cereal, some cans of soup, and a few boxes of various cookies and put them in the truck as well. He grabbed the handgun and walked back to see if Keith was ready to go. 

“Got everything?” 

Keith nodded and hefted his trash bag over his shoulder. “What were you getting?” 

“I was just making sure we had a ride out of here and grabbing some food.” Shiro picked up his own duffle bag. “You still feeling okay?” 

“Yeah, the ice really helped my head. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

No. “Yes, of course. I’m older than you so I know what I’m doing.” Absolutely not. Even now Shiro was panicking and running through all the scenarios in which he and Keith would both be killed, or worse. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

Shiro froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw Roger, at the dining room table, eyes narrowed, beer bottle in hand. 

“Shiro?” Keith whispered from behind him. 

His breathing was getting faster and scenarios were racing through his head. “You always said we were a burden, so we’re going to remedy that situation.” He was surprised out how calm his voice sounded, though they were the wrong words. The problem wasn’t that Keith and Shiro were burdens, the problem was Roger. Roger wanted to have power and control over them. Roger wanted to let them know that he could do anything he wanted to them and no one would care. Roger was not going to let them go no matter how much he complained.

He laughed. “Really? Isn’t this a bit of an overreaction Takeshi?”

“That’s not his name.” Keith said. 

Shiro moved so he was completely blocking him from Roger’s view and prayed that Keith would just shut up and let him handle it. However, three months in this household had not seemed to squash his spirit as he pushed past Shiro to stand by his side. 

“You’re always going on about how you hate nicknames but you can’t even pronounce Shiro’s name so either learn to say it or don’t say it at all.” 

“Keith!” Shiro hissed. 

Roger stared at them, studying them. Then he stood up, the chair making a horrible scraping noise against the peeling linoleum. 

“I’m going to count to three, and if you boys are not back in your room by the time I hit three, I’m going to beat you so bad you won’t be able to sit for a week.” 

Without thinking, Shiro reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the loaded handgun, cocking it like he had seen them do in the movies. 

“What the fuck? Put that down!” Roger shouted. 

Keith grabbed onto his arm and was staring up at him. 

“No, we are going to leave this house and we are going to get away from you.” 

Roger’s eyes flicked between the gun and his face. 

“Takashi, put the gun down. You’re in enough trouble as is.” 

He knew his fucking name this entire time? Was this just a fucking joke to him? 

Shiro’s hand was shaking. The gun was heavier than he thought it would be. His eyes flicked to a little switch on the side of the gun. He shook Keith’s grip off and pulled it back, revealing a little red dot. 

“Get out of my way. I am taking Keith and we are getting out of here.” 

“You’re not going to shoot me, Takashi. You won’t because deep down you can’t. If you aim that thing just right, you could kill me. And you ain’t the killing type.” 

He was right about that, but his head was still hurting and Keith was clutching onto his side and wasn’t that the reason he was leaving in the first place? 

“I’m going to count to three,” he said. “When I hit three, you’re going to your room, and you are going to stay there for two hours so that Keith and I can get away.” 

“Put that gun down boy.” He took a step forward.

“One.” 

“Shiro?” 

“If you fire that thing, you’ll be in a hell of a lot of trouble.” 

“Two.” He had both hands on the gun now and was aiming just to the left of Roger. If he shot the gun, he could scare the man off, but he didn’t want to hurt him, despite everything. “I’m serious, move.” 

“You’re going to go to jail, and that pretty face of yours will guarantee it’s going to be hell.” 

“Three!” He pulled the trigger and his wrists snapped back with the force. His ears were ringing from the loud bang that seemed to reverberate throughout the room. 

He heard Roger cry and and tried to focus to figure out what happened. He didn’t have to, though, because Keith was pulling him through the door. 

He looked back to see blood spattered around the kitchen and Roger clutching his leg. 

“Get back here you fuck!” Roger screamed. 

Keith scrambled into the front seat of the truck and Shiro threw his duffle bag into the bed before getting into the drivers side and starting it up. 

He tore out of the driveway, his hands shaking and his ears ringing. Keith was beside him, also looking like he was in a state of shock. The gun was hot in his lap and he pulled over to the side of the road, put in it safety and unloaded it before throwing it in the back. 

He took a deep breath. “There’s more ice, in the cooler, if your face is still hurting.” 

Keith shook his head. “Now what do we do?” 

Shiro started the truck back up again and continued to drive. “Now we get out of White Falls.”

oOoOoOo

“Wow,” Pidge said, sitting back and staring at the ground. “That is definitely something the Garrison would want to erase.” She could also see why they were so willing to look past it. Shiro wouldn’t have done those things if it hadn’t been an extreme situation. 

“Um, we’re not done yet,” Shiro said. 

“What?” Hunk cried. “But you commited a lot of felonies.” 

“Yeah, assault with a deadly weapon, theft, using a firearm without a license,” Lance ticked off. 

“Grand theft auto, since I’m assuming the truck wasn’t in your name.” Pidge added. 

“Plus kidnapping!” Hunk gestured to Keith, who just glared at him. 

“I mean,” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck, “I guess if you guys want to stop here we can…”

“No!” Came the unanimous reply. 

“Yeah, besides, you haven’t gotten to the best part,” Keith said. 

“What best part?”

“The truck stop incident.” 

“Oh, no, not that,” Shiro groaned. 

“You’re not the only one who did cool things and they deserve to know how awesome I am.” He proclaimed. 

Hunk gasped. “You’re telling me that baby Keith committed a felony?” 

“For the last time, I was six. I was not a baby!” 

“Fine, fine,” Shiro waved a hand, “I’ll tell the rest of the story.”

“All the way to when you got accepted into the Garrison,” Keith said. 

Shiro made another strangled noise, but nodded. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell it all.” 

Everyone settled back into their spots and waited for the story to continue. It was eye opening, to see Shiro in such a light, and Pidge understood now why he had survived the Gladiator Pits for so long. He wasn’t willing to sit back and let things happen to him. He was willing to grab a gun he had never used before, and shoot it to ensure his survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a friend who’s getting her master’s to become a social worker so I understand the sheer amount of stress they’re under. The foster system, at least in the U.S. is not a good system. The social workers are overworked and can’t possibly keep up with all the children and the children often suffer from extreme mental health issues as a result, even if they aren’t abused. If you have the means, definitely look into helping out.


	4. Crossing State Lines with a Minor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of prostitution

Shiro drove for another two hours before he finally calmed down enough to pull over and figure out what to do next. They were on the I-90 and heading towards Wyoming, but Shiro didn’t know where he was heading or what he was going to do once he got there. He didn’t have family to run to, and most of his friends were still in the system so it wasn’t like they would be of much help. 

“Hey, Shiro?” Keith asked. He had been quiet for most of the trip, occasionally dozing when the radio no longer picked up a mix of Country and Christian music, only playing a soft static instead. 

“Yeah?” 

“Where are we going?” 

Damn, he had hoped Keith wouldn’t ask him that yet. He didn’t have a plan and he didn’t want to admit it. Right now he was Keith’s guardian, whether legal or not, it was his job to figure things out and to get them to a place where they’d be safe. 

“If you don’t have anywhere in mind,” Keith continued, cautiously, “my dad’s house is probably okay.” 

Shiro decided to humor him. “Where’s it at and what’s it like?” 

Keith brightened up and smiled. “It’s small, but it’s down in Arizona, near the Garrison! Sometimes, at night, he’d take me out on the rocks and we’d watch them do test runs of their ships.” 

“And it hasn’t been sold?” He didn’t want to crush Keith’s dreams, but he also didn’t want to show up someplace and have the cops called on them because the new owners were surprised by their appearance. 

“No, I don’t really understand how it works, the lawyers explained it to Frank… my dad’s friend. I think he owned the land and now I own it, but because I’m not eighteen, I don’t own it?” 

That sounded promising. “And is it in town?” He didn’t really want to be isolated, not after living in the middle of nowhere Montana for over a year. 

“No, it’s a ways away, but it’s close enough so that if we need supplies, we can easily get them.” 

Shiro put the car in drive and started back along the highway. It was a start, and a destination. Hopefully, the fact that they were going all the way down to Arizona meant Roger would lose track of them and leave them alone. Roger was not the kind of guy who would put in so much effort to get them back. He’d be surprised if the man even called in that they were missing. 

They drove a few more hours and Shiro’s eyes started closing more and more. He sighed and decided they had driven enough for the night. They weren’t nearly far enough away from White Falls and Shiro was hoping to make in to Wyoming before they had to stop, but he was dangerously close to getting into a crash and Keith probably was supposed to be in a car seat or something. 

“Keep a lookout for a motel or something.” He yawned and turned down the heat, hoping the freezing temperatures would keep him awake. 

Keith nodded and stared out the window. Luckily, a bright green road sign listed out a few motels that were off the next exit ramp. It was a few miles away and hopefully Shiro could stay awake long enough to get them there. He really didn’t want to spend the night in the truck. 

The first motel they came across had a bright VACANCY sign lit. It was a small motel, with only one small cluster of rooms around the parking lot. Even in the dark, Shiro could see the decrepit state of the place and would have assumed it was closed had it not been for a dim blinking light and a figure at the night office. 

He tapped on the window and the man behind the glass slid his eyes off the newspaper on onto Shiro. There was a TV in the background playing what appeared to be the Bachelorette. 

“Yeah?” 

“Um, I’d like a room, please.” It occured to Shiro that most hotels probably wouldn’t allow minors to stay without a guardian also present, and his driver’s license clearly stated his date of birth. 

“Shower or no shower?” The man put down the newspaper and pulled out a box of keys. Most of them were still in their slots. 

“Um, how much is it for the shower?” He and Keith probably should take a shower. Keith still had a fair amount of blood matted in his hair and Shiro felt gross as well. 

“Eighty for the shower, sixty-five for no shower. We don’t do those little shampoos or anything. This ain’t the Hilton.” 

He pulled out the money and counted out eighty. “Are you going to ask me how many nights?” 

The man huffed. “No one stays here for more than a night, unless there’s a snowstorm.” He pulled out a key to room number 15 and slid it underneath the little opening in the glass and Shiro slid the money to him. 

“No prostitutes and check-out’s at ten. Free coffee in the main office, two bucks for a mini box of cereal.” He counted the money. 

“There’s a place to get a prostitute?” He was more wondering to himself. He hadn’t seen anything for miles around, much less someplace to pick up a prostitute. Maybe they had an Uber type app that let you call for them to come to you. 

“You’d be surprised. A bunch of men without their wives and a bunch of kids trying to get enough money for a bus ticket to California. No smoking, no drugs, no animals. If you see a cockroach or a mouse, leave it, this ain’t the Hilton.” 

Now that was something Shiro could not argue with. He thanked the man and went back to the truck. 

“Get your bag, kid,” he said. 

Keith nodded and hauled the trash bag out of the bed while Shiro got his own duffle bag and the non-perishables he had stolen from Roger. It was probably too much to hope that there was a pizza delivery place all the way out here. Besides, he needed to get showered and get to bed. They absolutely had to be out of Montana by tomorrow if they had any hopes of getting down to Arizona without Roger or Social Services catching up to them. 

Inside the room smelled like mildew and there were suspicious stains all over the sheets and floors. 

“Hop in the shower and I’ll get dinner ready,” Shiro said. 

Keith nodded and paused at the bathroom door. “Shiro?” 

“Yeah, buddy?” 

“We’re going to be alright, right?” 

“Yeah, of course we will.” He hoped he sounded positive and optimistic. So far, things hadn’t been going that terribly. Okay, so he kind of shot Roger and he wasn’t sure if it was fatal or not, but the man was still alive when they had fled so… hopefully?

Keith nodded and his face showed determination as he marched into the bathroom. 

The shower did help Shiro feel so much better. The water was barely warm and there was no shampoo or conditioner, not even hand soap, but it was better. They ate a small dinner of dried cereal and for once Shiro was grateful Susan got them the healthy crap. He did not want to suffer from a sugar crash tomorrow. 

The beds were uncomfortable and the sheets were weirdly stiff, but it was dark and Shiro was tired, so he fell asleep quickly, his mind alight with possible scenarios for the future. 

oOoOoOo

They were in Wyoming when Shiro realized none of the road signs were pointing towards Arizona. They never stated Phoenix or Tucson or even Flagstaff, and it was starting to worry him. He would have looked it up on his phone, except, he barely got a signal and when he did, he often lost it immediately. 

“Maybe we should pull over and ask for directions?” Keith suggested, his eyes staring out at the bleak and barren landscape that seemed to stretch forever. “I don’t want to end up in Mexico.”

“We’re not going to end up in Mexico.” He assured him. “There’s border patrol and they’d stop us from crossing the border.” And arrest me and take you back to Roger’s house, Shiro thought. 

Keith was right, though, they needed to stop and ask for directions or else they’d end up in New Mexico and not Arizona. It wasn’t like there was a deadline Shiro had to succeed by, but the sooner they got situated in Arizona, the better. 

“Next gas station or rest stop we see we’ll pull over. Somebody will know how to get there,” he said. 

Wyoming was remarkably empty. Despite both Keith and Shiro searching for any sign of civilization, he didn’t see anything. It felt like a zombie apocalypse movie where humanity was wiped out. The radio had long since lost signal of any radio station and there were only mile markers along the side of the road. It got to the point where Shiro was more worried about not having enough gas rather than ending up in New Mexico. 

“Oh, a sign!” Keith pointed down the road to a dusty green sign with black snow piled up around the metal legs. 

Shiro slowed, there was no traffic so they weren’t in danger of getting hit, and studied it. “Alright, looks like there’s a gas station a mile up the road. We’ll ask for directions there.” 

“And get something to eat?” 

“Yeah. They’ll probably have sandwiches or something for us.” The thought of gas station food made Shiro’s stomach churn uncomfortably. The last thing he wanted was for him and Keith to get some horrific stomach virus because they ate a hotdog made of rat meat. However, he didn’t have much of a choice and Keith needed something more substantial than cereal. His health class mentioned protein and fat were needed to sustain a body, not just carbs. 

They pulled into the station and Shiro did a quick check to make sure Keith’s bruises weren’t too noticeable before telling him to go inside and pick out some food while Shiro filled up the tank. He shivered and pulled the hoodie more tightly around his body. He wished he had the foresight to grab a winter coat before they had left and was thankful it wasn’t snowing. 

There was only one other car in the parking lot, likely the guy working the counter and it was so quiet. It was like the noise had been completely sucked out of the world and if Shiro were to scream, his voice would be swallowed up. 

The nozzle clicked and Shiro walked inside to pay for the gas and the food. 

“I got some sandwiches for us,” Keith said, holding up four sandwiches that looked to be more bread than meat and cheese. “Do we need anything else?” 

Shiro was aware that the man at the counter was staring at them, studying them. It was odd for a sixteen year old to be driving a six year old through Wyoming, especially when said six year-old had bruises along the side of his face. 

“Um, let’s get some water and see if he has milk or something.” He mournfully walked by the aisle of chips and cookies, reminding himself that now he was Keith’s role-model which meant he couldn’t eat a bunch of junk food. Maybe he’d snag a thing of Pringles for them to share. 

They walked up to the counter and the man studied them some more, not taking his eyes off of Shiro while he rang up their purchases. Shiro stared back, despite wanting the avert his eyes and shrink under his gaze. He almost didn’t ask the man for directions, not wanting anyone to know where they were headed, but Keith tugged on his sleeve and stared up at him. 

“Aren’t you going to ask?” 

Shiro sighed. “Do you know how to get to Arizona? All of the road signs just have places in Colorado and New Mexico listed.” 

The man was chewing on something. Maybe gum? Or tobacco. He jerked his head to a magazine stand full of battered booklets. “Road atlas is over there.” 

Shiro groaned. “Can’t you just tell me? I literally just need to know which highway to take.” 

The man popped a bubble. “Boy, it’s wintertime, which means roads are going to be closed, even the highways. State doesn’t have enough money or manpower to plow them all. Even if I told you turn left here and go straight there, you’d still likely have to take a detour. Get the atlas.” 

Shiro nodded and shuffled over to the magazine stand and pulled down one of the Western United States. He rang up the atlas and put it with the sandwiches, milk, and Pringles. 

“You got snow chains?” 

“Um...” He was pretty sure Roger had snow chains, but he couldn’t be sure if the chains were in the truck or if they had been taken out. 

The man turned and looked out the window before pulling out black bag and adding it to the pile of stuff. Shiro was glad he had cleaned out the safe because this was beginning to be an expensive pit stop. 

“They’re required on some of the roads. If you don’t have snow chains, you don’t drive. And there ain’t a lot of places to stay at between here and Casper.” 

“Thank you. Come on, Keith.” He handed Keith the bag of food and took the snow chains and road atlas. The chains were extremely heavy, more so than he was expecting and he nearly fell over. 

“You don’t know how to put those on, do you?” The man called. 

“I’m sure I can figure them out.” There was probably an instruction booklet or something that came with the tires. 

The man sighed, shook his head, and hopped over the counter. “You’ll want to learn before you get stuck in a sub-zero blizzard. Come on, I’ll help you.” 

“No, that’s okay. I think I can figure it out.” He didn’t like the idea of this man spending a lot of time with them. What if he was trying to memorize license plate numbers, or stall them until the police showed up?

“Boy, you are going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I do not want to be the reason for that. We’ll do two tires and then you can be on your merry way.” 

Keith hopped up in the bed of the truck and began munching on a ham sandwich, looking at Shiro as he and the man opened up the snow chains and pulled them out. 

“Why you two going down to Arizona?” he asked, untangling the chains. 

“I’m, um, heading off to college. So this is like one last road trip with me and my brother before I go away.” He was glad the lie came so easily. He hoped the man wouldn’t ask Keith any follow up questions, since the kid was awful at lying. 

“Oh, really, where at?” 

Shit, Shiro only ever wanted to go to the Garrison and it wasn’t like Roger was putting any money away for his education so most traditional colleges were out. 

“University of Montana.” That was a safe bet, considering they lived in Montana and Shiro could use that knowledge to his advantage. 

“No shit. The Missoula campus?” 

Shiro nodded. 

“I had a friend who went there. Studied biology or some crap like that. What do you want to study?” 

“I’m not sure yet. I’m thinking physics, maybe with a focus in astronomy?” Sure, that was close enough to being a pilot at the garrison. Both had to take rigorous physics courses that Shiro had studied for. 

“What about you?” The man looked up at Keith, who looked at Shiro. 

He nodded, hoping that Keith would just tell the truth. He was young enough that saying something like pilot wouldn’t be seen as suspicious. 

“Um, I want to be a pilot for the Garrison,” he said quietly, staring at his sandwich. 

“Really? Is that why you kids are heading to Arizona?” 

He felt his heart speed up. If he agreed, that could put the cops on their tail, but if he disagreed, then what other reason did they have for going to Arizona. He tried to think of something else the state offered. 

“No, we’re going to see the Great Canyon,” he said. 

“Grand Canyon.” The man corrected. 

“Right, um, but if we have time maybe we’ll see if we can visit the Garrison.” Shiro added. 

Keith visibly relaxed. 

They finished up putting on and taking off the snow chains and Shiro did feel better about knowing how to do them now, rather than figuring out how to do them later. But they had spent long enough here and if they spent any longer, Roger or the police might catch up to them. He was happy to see the man walk back into the store and be back on the road. 

“Sorry,” Keith said, scuffing his heels against the floor. 

“For what?” 

“You had to lie about what you wanted to do. You shouldn’t have to lie about going to the Garrison.” 

It was kind of crappy that Keith could tell the truth and Shiro had to sit there and pretend like his life wasn’t falling apart and that he actually had some idea of what he was doing. Thinking back to what had happened and why they were in this situation in the first place, he wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“It’s okay. It was a pipe dream anyways. The amount of planning and risk it would have taken to get to Helena alone for the test was already monstrous.” He reached over and mussed Keith’s hair, causing the kid to squawk. “Besides, this way I feel like a cool secret agent with cool cover stories. Maybe next time I’ll say I’m studying to be an archeologist, or a lawyer or something cool like that.” 

Keith wrinkled his nose. “You think lawyers are cool?” 

“Hey,” Shiro pointed a finger at him, “don’t insult my fake degree. If I say it’s cool, then it’s cool.” 

Keith laughed and munched on the chips. Shiro’s mood did not lift. The man from the store had spent a lot of time around their truck and because Shiro was so disconnected to the world, he had no idea if he and Keith were missing persons or not. Amber Alerts sent out license plate numbers, right? Shit, if the man managed to memorize the plate number, it would be so easy to track him and Keith along the highway. 

There was a sign for a rest stop in about fifty miles. He looked over at Keith, who was staring out at the vast, snowy land. He had to figure out a way to throw off the police. He couldn’t do much about the truck, but he could do something about the license plate. He pulled into the rest stop. There were a few cars scattered about, the people were all inside of the little cafe that was attached to the bathrooms. 

“Go to the bathroom, kid. I need to empty the water from the cooler,” Shiro said. 

Keith stared at him, as if trying to decide if he could trust Shiro or not, but didn’t say anything. Instead he turned and headed off towards the bathroom. Shiro dug around the backseat and found a small toolbox. He sat down next to the adjacent car, which had a license plate from Nebraska and began working off the screws on their truck and the car before switching the plates. He glanced back at the cafe; no one seemed to be moving or even looking his direction.

Once he managed to get the front plates switched, he went around to the back and repeated the process. Keith came out of the restroom just as Shiro was putting away the toolbox. ("Oh," Keith said, "I don't think I ever realized you changed the license plates." Shiro shrugged, "You weren't supposed to realize it.")

“Do you need to go?” He hopped back into the cab. 

“No, I think I’m good for a few more hours. Let’s see if we can’t get out of Wyoming and into Colorado tonight. Do you think you can figure out how to get us to Arizona?” He handed him the Road Atlas. 

“Why do I have to do it?” Keith groaned as he flipped through the pages. 

“Because, I’m the pilot, which means that you’re the navigator.” Shiro grinned and popped a chip into his mouth. 

“Ah, I want to be the pilot.” 

“Sorry, kiddo, you can’t reach the pedals, which automatically means I’m the pilot.” He pulled out of the parking lot, glancing one more time at the small cafe to make sure no one had noticed his switch. 

“I don’t see why being tall automatically makes you qualified to be the pilot,” he grumbled, but he had flipped to the corresponding map and was tracing a finger down the page.

So far, things were going reasonably well. Shiro still had no idea what he was going to do once they actually got to Arizona, but at least for now he had a plan.


	5. Assault with a Deadly Weapon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attempted rape/non-con. Please be safe.

Colorado was just as empty as Wyoming, but the mountains made for a much more interesting scene. According to Keith (and double checked by Shiro) they needed to keep heading towards New Mexico and then hit the I-40 going towards Flagstaff. From there, they’d have to do a bit more navigation to actually find their way to Keith’s house, but he was confident that they would be able to get there. 

If they kept going at this speed, they’d likely arrive by the end of the week. Shiro wanted to go faster, but the snow was starting to get more present on the roads and he did not want to end up in a crash. 

“I don’t like the snow,” Keith said, staring out the window. 

“Why not?” 

He shrugged. “I dunno. It’s cold and there’s not much you can do but sit inside and watch it come down. I’d rather be outside.”

“You can do things with snow.” Shiro said, almost offended by what Keith was saying. 

“Yeah, right. Then why did Roger make us stay inside every time it snowed?” 

Ah, that was going to be difficult to explain. It was hard to figure out just how much Keith knew about the situation; how much he thought was normal. For Shiro to try and explain to Keith that Roger wanted to control their lives completely was going to be tough. Maybe he should do it now, now that they had some distance between them and Montana, now that Keith was calm and seemed to trust Shiro, even though he really shouldn’t. Shiro knew about as much as Keith did when it came to the situation. 

“Keith,” he started, carefully. 

Keith looked at him, his eyes narrowed, suspicious. What had this kid been through in the past to make him so instantly distrusting? 

That would have to wait, right now, Shiro needed to get this out so that he and Keith were on the same page moving forward. “You understand that much of what Roger did wasn’t okay, right?” 

He nodded. “I’m not stupid. Dad never made me feel bad about doing the dishes wrong.” 

“Good. I just wanted to make sure you understand that Roger wanted to control. One of the ways he exercised that control was by giving us arbitrary rules.” Did that explain what was happening? Did that even begin to cover all the wrong that had gone on in that house?

“I don’t get it.” Keith said, crossing his arms over his stomach and slipping down into the seat. “He always complained about how much of a burden we were on him. But at my last home, when they thought I was causing too much trouble, they got rid of me.” 

Ouch, yeah, Shiro understood that feeling. “Some people feel… insecure about themselves and like to take it out on people who can’t defend themselves.” Yeah, that seemed like a child-friendly run down of why abusers act the way they did. “Him complaining was another way to try and control us, to make us feel as though we owe him something.” 

“Do we?” Keith had turned back to him. “I mean, he did take us in. And he did make sure we ate food on a regular basis. It feels kind of wrong to leave him.”

Shiro turned back to the road, his knuckles white due to his grip on the steering wheel. No matter what, he couldn’t get upset. He couldn’t make Keith think that he would ever hurt him. “Nothing anyone ever does for you makes it alright to hurt you. You understand that, right?” 

Keith didn’t answer.

“Keith,” Shiro glanced over to see him staring out the window. “Keith, you understand that no matter what someone does for you, it doesn’t give them the right to be mean to you, or to hurt you like Roger did.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

Shiro wasn’t entirely convinced that he understood, but the snow was starting to pick up and he didn’t want to be distracted while trying to drive through it. 

They stopped at another motel along the way. This one was slightly nicer than the one they stayed at in Montana. 

“Shiro! Look, it says there are mountains here with skiing.” Keith held up a shiny brochure. 

He took a look at it and smiled. “You said you didn’t even like the snow and now you want to go skiing?” 

“I like going fast and that seems like something you can do to go fast,” Keith said, pouting slightly. (“I do not pout!” Keith argued. “You pouted back then,” Shiro said, though he secretly thought that Keith pouted now, but he did understand the need to save face. He was once eighteen.)

“We’re not going skiing. We need to get to Arizona.” Keith nodded and flopped down on the bed, flicking through the TV channels. Shiro remembered their earlier conversation about the activities they could do in the snow. 

“Hey, Keith, how about you come here for a minute?” He beckoned him to the door. 

Keith looked quizzically at him but followed without an argument. 

Once they were outside, Shiro made quick work to bend down and scoop up some snow before flinging it at Keith. 

He shrieked and ran away. “Shiro, you jerk!” 

“You’re supposed to throw snow back at me!” Shiro said, scooping up more snow to make a proper snowball. 

“Why would I want to do that?” Despite his protests, Keith was bending over to grab more snow and fling it at him. 

“Because this is a snowball fight!” Shiro managed to nail Keith in the face, laughing as the boy stumbled backwards sputtering. 

“No fair! You’re taller than me.” 

Shiro was hit with another wave of snow. Keith wasn’t forming them into balls, but Shiro didn’t want to tell him how to do it properly. He wanted to win this after all. 

“I thought being taller didn’t matter when it came to being better.” The snow was freezing and his hands were starting to become stiff from plunging into it so often. His clothes were also soaked and his ears were starting to hurt. Still, he didn’t want to stop, not yet. He hadn’t had this much fun in so long and it felt good to feel normal. They were just two kids playing in the snow while on a road trip. They weren’t running or hiding from anything. They were just existing like everyone else. 

They continued on, throwing snow as well as insults at each other, finally collapsing in the snow together. 

“Alright, we’ll call it a draw,” Shiro said, even though he totally won. (“I don’t think you can technically win a snowball fight,” Pidge said.)

“Can you even win a snowball fight?” Keith asked. 

To lie or not to lie? “You totally can, but I decided since this is your first one, I’ll be nice and call it a draw.” 

“You just want to call it a draw because I totally won.” Keith said. 

“Did not.” Shiro pulled him to his feet and led them back to the room. Hopefully this shower got warmer than the one in Montana. 

“Did to.” 

Despite the fun they had had, it was time to get back to reality. They weren’t normal and this wasn’t a normal road trip. Shiro had to keep pushing forward, keep trying to be responsible and keep trying to outrun Roger, if the man was even looking for them. Keith managed to fall asleep quickly on the stiff bed, but Shiro was left awake, listening to their clothes drip drying in the bathroom, wondering if they’d be able to keep getting lucky. So far, they had no trouble once they got out of the house. They just had to keep their heads down and everything would stay fine. 

oOoOoOo

Everything did not stay fine. Shiro should have known their luck was going to run out soon. He should have been more prepared. 

They were at a gas station somewhere on the edge of Colorado. Shiro was waiting outside for Keith, keeping an eye on the truck. They still had quite a bit of money stuffed in a duffle bag and the last thing he needed was for it to get stolen by some guy looking to get a fix. He was also worried about leaving Keith alone in the bathroom. At more than one of these truck stops the people were looking at them funny. They didn’t seem curious about Keith and Shiro, they were studying them for something else. 

He felt his heart pick up and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Why now? 

He took a deep breath. “Calm down. You’re fine. No one is going to try anything,” he said to himself. He was hoping they would get to another motel before it got dark, but the highway had had an unexpected blizzard come through and the truck had to be slowed to a snail's pace. 

His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt the overwhelming urge to run away. He had gotten pretty good at trusting his gut and decided it was time to find Keith and get out of here. Next time he’d make sure to stop before it got dark. They’d make it to the next motel. They would. 

He turned and ran into some guy who was standing next to him. Who was standing too close to him. The smell was what had tipped off Shiro that something was wrong. It was the smell of rot and alcohol. 

“Sorry, just need to get through.” Shiro said. 

“How much?” The guy stared at him, studying Shiro. 

Shiro wanted to shrink down. He almost did shrink down. But this wasn’t Roger and Shiro needed to keep himself safe. He was the only person right now who was looking out for Keith and if something happened to him, Keith would be left to the mercy of these people. 

“I think you misunderstood what I’m doing here. I’m not interested.” Shiro tried to sound as confident as possible. He had heard once that people who sounded confident were less likely to get attacked. 

The man smiled. Surprisingly, his teeth were not rotting out of his head. So where was the smell coming from?

“You’re a runaway. You need money. I’ll make it quick.” He grabbed his crotch and Shiro felt the overwhelming urge to throw up. Maybe vomit would scare the man away. 

He decided, instead, to back up, which didn’t do anything because he backed into a wall and was now completely trapped. “I don’t need money so go away!” Maybe if he screamed loud enough someone would come help him. He knew, though, that most people would turn away and ignore him. 

“What, are you too good for me?” He grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. 

Shiro wished he had brought the gun. Even unloaded it would likely scare this person off. He wished he could move his arm so that he could punch this guy. He was frozen, being pulled along by the whims of some pervert who was going to rape him at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere Colorado and leave him for dead. 

They didn’t get very far because the man screamed bloody murder and stumbled away from Shiro. It took him a minute to figure out what happened. The man was clutching his side which was now bleeding profusely. 

“You fucking stabbed me!” 

Shiro thought he was talking to him, but he saw the man’s fist heading straight towards Keith who was clutching a knife in his hands. (“Seriously!” Lance cried, whipping around to Keith. “You seriously stabbed a guy when you were six?” Keith shrugged. “I wasn’t going to let him hurt Shiro.”)

Now Shiro could move. He tackled the guy, throwing off his punch and rolling them away from Keith. Once he was on the ground, Shiro leapt up, grabbed Keith and ran back to the truck. He threw him in without hesitation and peeled out of the parking lot. 

“What did you do?” he cried. Now the police were going to get involved. The man would press charges. They’d be found in an instant.

“He was going to hurt you. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Between trying to keep them on the road and the adrenalin that was still coursing through Shiro’s body, he was having trouble concentrating. “No, Keith. No. Where, where did you get the knife? Who’d you steal it from?” 

“I didn’t steal it from anyone. It was my mom’s!” Keith sounded close to tears as well. 

Now that Shiro thought about it, his own eyes were starting to get blurry. He wanted to get farther, as far as possible away from this place, but he pulled over and smacked his head on the steering wheel. He started crying. Next to him, Keith was crying to. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith said. “I’m sorry, you looked scared. I didn’t mean to hurt him. Please don’t…”

Shiro was still panicking, but it had subsided somewhat and he knew what Keith was afraid he’d do. He turned and pulled Keith into a hug. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you don’t go back to Roger.” 

They stayed like that for a long time. No sirens could be heard and no flashing lights could be seen. Once Keith fell asleep, Shiro felt calm enough to continue. They didn’t stop that night, and they wouldn’t stop that again for awhile. They needed to get to the house quickly and disappear for a few years. This would all blow over. This had to all blow over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very hard to write. The first part was fun, the second part was not. Things are getting worse now for our boys.


	6. Destruction of Public Property and Reckless Driving

The next day, things still weren’t great between him and Keith. Shiro understood, of course, why Keith was keeping his distance. Well, as much distance as he could keep given that they were trapped in a truck, but that didn’t make dealing with it any better. Shiro wanted to be someone Keith could trust, someone he could rely on completely. He felt like he broke that trust when he yelled at him. He would never, ever hurt Keith. He would never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it, but there was a barrier between what he knew about himself and what Keith knew about himself. 

He had to make this right. “Keith, I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday.” He said. And he meant it. 

Keith didn’t say anything and continued to stare out the window at the endless snowy hills. He had his hood pulled up and his arms crossed over his chest. He was wound tight, ready to spring into action should he be attacked. Should he be attacked by Shiro. 

“I will never hurt you. Do you understand?” 

Keith somehow managed to turn even farther away from him and slip down into the seat. 

Shiro was tired. He was scared. His back hurt from driving for so long and his stomach hurt from not eating any real food. 

He felt like he was going to cry again. 

Even if Keith wasn’t talking to him, he was still in the truck and therefore, still listening. Even if he still hated Shiro, he could at least try and make things better. 

“I’m scared, kid. I clearly haven’t thought any of this through and Roger is… powerful. He may not seem it, but he is a powerful man with connections that could kill us both.” He blinked away tears and gripped the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt but if I go to jail, because if we get caught, I will go to jail, I won’t be able to protect you.” 

He glanced over at Keith, who had turned slightly towards him. 

“I’ve seen what happens to kids like us. I don’t want us to become another statistic. Because no one cares about statistics.”

“What statistic?” Keith asked.

“Um,” Shiro wiped his eyes, embarrassed that he had unloaded such a heavy discussion on a child who was barely old enough to understand addition and subtraction. “They have statistics on the number of kids killed by abusive guardians every year, the number of kids who run away, the number of kids who runaway and die. There’s a lot of them, and none of them are good.” 

“And people won’t care about us because we’re statistics?” 

“No, because it’s hard to care about a number.” Shiro clarified. “Seriously, though, I wasn’t yelling at you because I wanted you to be afraid of me. I was yelling at you because I didn’t want us to get caught. I’ve already broken so many laws and we have to stay low, or else we’ll be easy to find.”

Keith nodded. “Okay, I understand. You looked scared, though. And I didn’t want you to get hurt. You’ve done too much to help me.” 

Shiro reached over slowly, watching to make sure Keith didn’t flinch. When he didn’t, he ran his hand through his hair. Keith leaned into it. 

“Next time just hit the guy with a crowbar or something.”

Keith snorted. “If you think that’s better.” 

“I do.”

“Why, because you can reach the pedals.” 

“Exactly.” 

oOoOoOo

They had finally ended up in Arizona, praise the lord. Shiro was afraid with the attack on the man at the truck stop they would be hunted down and found for sure, but that hadn’t happened yet. In fact…

“Shiro, why haven’t we heard anything about our runaway?” Keith asked. “I thought they sent out Amber Alerts or something if a kid went missing.” 

It had been bothering Shiro as well. He hadn’t expected Roger to let them go easily, and if he were dead, there’d be an investigation, at least into the disappearance of Keith. The fact that they hadn’t heard anything, not even when they were in Montana was troubling him. 

“Maybe Roger thought we were more trouble than we were worth. Besides, if he doesn’t report us missing, he can still get his checks without having to deal with us.” He hoped his lie was convincing. 

“But you said he likes control. Wouldn’t letting us go be giving up control?”

Damn, he forgot how perceptive Keith could be. “Let’s count our blessings now and keep an eye out. We’re almost to your dad’s house, right?” 

Keith nodded. 

“Great. Once we’re there, we can formulate a better plan. For now, let’s just focus on getting there and recovering from our ordeal.” 

Keith didn’t respond and turned back to look out the window. 

Shiro needed to formulate some sort of game plan. And he needed to do so quickly. There were too many unknown variables and he knew for a fact that someone was looking for them. What was he going to do? What could he do? He could assume that the police from Whitefalls were looking for them. But did they have enough money and time to chase them all the way to Arizona? 

He could assume the truck stop guy Keith stabbed was looking for them, and any highway patrolmen who responded to the scene. But how much did the guy tell them? Apparently not enough since there was no talk of them on the news. Unless, of course, it wasn’t deemed important enough for the local news. Shiro thought that cases like this always made National news, but then again that was something from movies and TV shows. God, was he actually stupid enough to think that television and movies were accurate representations on the real world?

“Shiro,” Keith said, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think everything is going to work out.” It was the first time he had ever heard Keith sounding so… optimistic about life. Usually he was resigned and withdrawn, going along with whatever someone else wanted without much fuss so that he could survive. The fact that he was optimistic, or at least putting up a front for Shiro, actually made him feel better. Everything was going to work out. They had a few problems getting started, but nothing that was going to haunt them forever.

Shiro smiled, and continued down the freeway.

oOoOoOo

The Route 66 Waffle Shack confused Shiro because, first and foremost, it was along I-10, nowhere near Route 66. And, as far as he could tell, didn’t have a single restaurant anywhere on Route 66. 

Still, Shiro was hungry for something that wasn’t dry cereal or gas station sandwiches with questionable meats (not that he thought The Route 66 Waffle Shack had less questionable meats) and they were on the home stretch. In an hour, maybe two, they’d be at Keith’s house and could start rebuilding their lives. Shiro was excited. True, he wasn’t where he wanted to be at the moment. Where he wanted to be was in Helena taking a test to get into the Garrison, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make this new life of his great. There would be plenty of problems along the way, especially now that he had to try and raise Keith by himself, but he would be fine. They would both be fine. 

Keith was staring wide eyed at the stack of pancakes in front of him. The stack was so tall, Shiro couldn’t see Keith from behind them. 

“Are you going to be able to finish all of that?” he asked, digging into his own plate of waffles, sausages, and scrambled eggs. 

“I love this place,” Keith said, clearly in awe. 

“Good, I’m glad. I can’t wait to get started and settle down here.” 

Keith started to dig into his pancakes. “My dad’s house is out away from the city, but if I remember correctly, it’s easy to get places. And it has a porch.”

“Oh, good. Now I can live out my dream of getting a rocking chair and yelling at kids to get off my lawn.” 

“You’re such an old man.” 

“Watch it,” Shiro said, feigning offense, “or I’ll ground you.” 

Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew Keith was rolling his eyes. Yikes, not even ten and already having the attitude of a typical teenager. Maybe they should stop off at the library so Shiro could get some books on parenting. 

Shiro was about to make a snarky comment back, when his eyes fell upon a man sitting at a table not far from them. His heart plummeted from his chest. 

“Keith,” he said as quietly as he could. 

Keith stopped eating. “Yeah?” 

“I need you to go to the bathroom and then sneak out of here. Okay?” 

“Why? What’s wrong?” Despite the questions, Keith was already sliding out of the booth. Shiro hadn’t seen the man before because of the pancakes, but even though he was sitting a ways from them, Shiro recognized him. He was one of Roger’s poker buddies. 

He waited for Keith to go to the bathroom and then dug out some money, his hands shaking as he tried not to let the man know he had seen him. Did he follow them here or was it just luck? 

Shiro threw down the money, sure that it was too much, and started to make his way to the front. If it was luck or not, he couldn’t risk it. He had to get out of here. 

A hand fell on his shoulder. “Did you pay your bill?” 

He spun around and hit the man, hard. It wasn’t luck. He had no idea how Roger managed to stalk them to here, but they did. He ran to the door only to be picked up and thrown into a table, causing it to break and plates and glasses to fly everywhere. He prayed that Keith had found a way out and wasn’t coming to investigate the disruption. 

A waitress screamed and someone said they were calling the police. No, they were so close. Shiro was not about to get sent back to Roger. He spun around and kicked the man as hard as he could, sending him sprawling across the floor. He didn’t wait to see if he got up, instead sprinting outside. 

Keith was there, waiting by the truck. “Shiro, what?” 

“Get in the truck, now!” He scrambled into his own side and tore out of the parking lot. 

“Roger found us. We need to lose them now.” There was a loud pop and the windshield shattered, making Shiro swerve on the road. 

“They’re shooting at us!” Keith luckily had the sense to fall to the floor. 

“Give me a second.” Where could they go? How could they lose them? Should he take this exit ramp?

“We don’t have a second!” 

“Just give me a moment to think!” More gun shots could be heard. And that’s when he saw it, their ticket out of here. 

“Hold on, Keith.” He turned the wheel hard and headed towards what he hoped would be their salvation.


	7. Theft of Government Property, Flying Without a License, and Attempted Murder

The ground was bumpier than Shiro expected, and Keith himself was holding on for dear life. 

“Where are we going, Shiro?” he asked. 

“We’re,” Shiro cursed and swerved to avoid a pothole. “We’re going to get out of here and lose Roger for good.” He swerved again. His target was in his sights. Luckily, it seemed like Roger had stopped shooting at them, but they were still catching up. 

Keith looked where Shiro was heading, his eyes widened when he realized what they were about to do. 

“You’re not serious?” 

“I’m dead serious.” 

Before them lay a fleet of about 20 Garrison crafts. These were small ones meant to be used for training on Earth as sort of a simulation for more difficult planetary terrain. The problem was, Shiro had only ever done simulators, he had never actually flown anything and the truck was probably the most technologically advanced piece of equipment he had used in awhile. But he had to try. He just had to get Keith and him away from Roger and possibly camp out for a few days until the heat died down. 

If he were thinking straight, he would have recognized that a) he was about to steal government property and b) this was not going to go away in a few days, and c) at this point he probably should pull over and let the Garrison handle it instead of risking his and Keith’s life. However, he was panicking and not thinking straight. So he did the very, very stupid thing. 

They screeched up alongside one of the vehicles and they jumped out, Shiro making sure to grab the gun and bullets. He and Keith ran to the craft. 

“What the fu-”

Before the pilot could say anything, Shiro socked him hard in the face, sending him sprawling across the dirt and yanked the other one off of the ladder. He felt bad, but he could feel bad later. He and Keith clambered in. There was shouting and several people in uniforms running towards them. 

“You do know how to fly this thing, right?” Keith asked, looking at all of the glittery buttons. Shiro could see Roger’s car pulling up behind him. He flicked a few switches. 

“Sure. I can fly this.” He reached over and buckled Keith in, checked the amount of bullets left in the gun and then shot the ship forward.

“That doesn’t make me feel secure!” Keith shouted. 

Shiro clipped the side against the rock, cursed and straightened out again. 

“Help me, Keith! You’re co-pilot now.” 

Keith lunged forward and started pushing more of the buttons, helping stabilize the ship. 

Shiro focused mainly on not hitting anything, which was hard because there seemed to be rocks and obstacles everywhere. 

“This was your plan?” Keith shouted. 

Before Shiro could answer, the warning lights came on just in time for a ship to crash into him from behind. 

“Shit! Is that the Garrison?” Shiro did a hard left down a narrow canyon, hoping to through the ship off their tail. 

“It’s probably Roger. The Garrison wouldn’t destroy these ships.” 

They lurched forwards again. “We need to lose them. If he catches us, we’re dead.” Probably not the best thing to say while running for their lives, but it was the only thought going through Shiro’s head at the moment. The glass in the craft shattered and Shiro could hear more pops echoing around them. 

He couldn’t believe they were shooting at them. He couldn’t believe that Roger had chased them. He couldn’t believe that he had yet to crash the damn craft despite never flying it before. It helped that Keith seemed to know his way around the cockpit well enough to help stabilize (even if he couldn’t reach the pedals properly to truly help steer).

Shiro veered right, hoping the cliffs and canyons would deter Roger from following him. It did not and Shiro vaguely wondered how Roger knew to fly the craft. He continued to weave throughout the desert, sadly never losing Roger and hearing gunshots ring out around them. 

“Shiro, he’s not leaving. What do we do now?” Keith asked, looking behind them. 

“Give me a minute to think.” 

Luckily, Keith did not remind him that they did not have a minute, though they were running out of time. Shiro’s hands were shaking. He was scared and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know how he was going to get out of this mess. He had tried to throw off Roger by going in and out of tricky canyons. He had tried to disappear and leave no trace to follow. He had tried to keep Keith and himself safe but despite everything he had tried, he had yet to actually succeed in any of it. 

“Shiro, look out!” 

The nose of the ship hit a rock and he and Keith went spinning and twisting into the ground. Shiro had time to throw out his arm to hold Keith to the seat before they smashed into the ground and everything went black. 

oOoOoOo

There was a ringing in his ears and the smell of hot sand, smoke, and burnt plastic in the air. Shiro realized that he was hanging in his seat and it reminding him of the one time he went on a roller coaster and the seats tipped forward, gravity pulling him from the chair and the restraints pressing uncomfortably on his sternum. 

He blinked. It took him a moment to figure out what exactly he was looking at but it was the smashed up remains of a Garrison craft filled with sand and bits of metal and glass. He looked over and was horrified to see that Keith was no longer in the seat next to him. These seats weren’t meant to restrain six year-olds. He could have been thrown from the ship.

“Keith!” Shiro called. He tried to undo the buckle but his right arm would move without searing pain encompassing it. He managed to use his fumbling left hand and as soon as the buckle clicked open, realized what a stupid idea that was as he fell face first into jagged glass and metal. Luckily, nothing stabbed out his eyes. 

“Keith, can you hear me?” Shiro dragged himself out of the craft, the sand burning his palms and the sun making his headache worse. He spotted the gun laying on the ground and picked it up. He went to stand, only to feel shooting pain and have his leg buckle under the weight. It was likely broken, as was his arm. He coughed and spit out some blood. 

“Keith!” He was starting to panic, worried that Keith was bleeding out in the desert, and Shiro was too injured to help him. 

He heard the crunch of metal and glass, and a groan. He whipped around, his eyes widening as he realized who was with them. 

“You couldn’t stay asleep for five more fucking minutes?” Roger said. He was sweating and also bleeding. In his arms was Keith, slumped forward and unconscious. 

Shiro held up the gun, though his grip strength was weak and he was afraid it would slip out. Still, he couldn’t let Roger know. “Let him go.” 

Roger laughed and Shiro saw the glint of metal in his other hand. His heart dropped. Roger was still armed. If he was still armed, then he could hurt Keith, kill him even. No, no, he clearly wanted Keith, so he wouldn’t kill him. Right?

He decided the best tactic was to stall. He had to get Keith away from this man and to a hospital. If Roger left, there was no telling how long they would last. 

“You always complained about us; why do you care if we leave?” His arm was shaking so much now. The gun was going to fall out of his hand. Would Roger kill him when that happened? Did Shiro think he had the ability to kill? 

Yes, Roger was unhinged and crazy right now. He couldn’t take the chance that they could get out of this without a death. 

“I wanted the perfect life! I deserved it!” Roger spat, shaking Keith, his face red and the veins in his forehead throbbing. “Every turn someone was out to get me. It’s not my fault! You made me like this!” 

Shiro want to argue that no, he didn’t. This was the result of Roger’s self-delusions and sense of entitlement, but if he had yet to realize it, it was probably never going to occur to him. 

“I’m taking this kid back and I am going to live my life, the life I deserve!” 

“Please, put him down. You’re hurting him.” Shiro begged. He had heard somewhere that you weren’t supposed to move someone with a potential brain injury. 

Since Keith was unconscious, he definitely had one. How could he get out of this? How could he get them both out of this? They had been so close and yet they still weren’t able to succeed. What did he do wrong? What had he done to deserve any of this. 

“I’m done listening to you, letting you run my life.” Roger pointed the gun at him and Shiro’s blood went cold. He couldn’t even muster up the strength to beg for his life. By this point his arm was frozen in mid-air, finger on the trigger. He could still pull it and hope it didn’t hit Keith. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. 

“Your little joy ride, it ends here.” Roger smiled, pointed the gun. And then let out a strangled cry and fell forward, seizing on the ground. 

Shiro furrowed his brow and watched the man jerk and convulse before realizing why he was jerking and convulsing. In his back were two pins attached to wires. Following the wires up, he realized a stern looking man in a Garrison uniform was standing over the body, glaring at all of them (“Wait!” Lance cried, “Iverson is the one who saved you?” Shiro sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, he was helping out with the cadets so he was there.” “Yeah, but Iverson actually did something to help someone?” Pidge and Hunk nodded. “He is kind of a jerk.” Shiro laughed. “I mean, he also saved mine and Keith’s lives, so I try not to talk bad about him.”) 

Shiro dropped the gun and stared, open-mouthed at the guy. 

“You need to count your bullets,” the man said. “He was out. You weren’t.” 

Shiro managed to nod, still wondering how in the hell his life had come to this. He didn’t wonder for very long, however. His vision blacked out, and, due to the stress of the day, he collapsed in the hot sand surrounded by the wreck.


	8. A New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I post! I don't know why it took me so long considering I had this stupid thing written completely. Anyways, here is the finale. The end of this long journey! Enjoy!

When Shiro awoke, he realized he was in a hospital. The smell is what gave it away. That sterile smell that made him gag and burned his nostrils. He also heard beeping. A heart rate monitor. It made sense, considering the state he was in when he had collapsed. 

He opened his eyes and surveyed the room. It was dark and he seemed to be the only one in it. Good, the last thing he needed was a chatty roommate. He did wonder where Keith was. The heart rate monitor spiked. 

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A young man dressed in scrubs said, no doubt alerted to the sound. 

Shiro turned to look at him, his brow furrowed. “Where am I? And don’t say hospital. I know I’m in a hospital.” 

The man laughed. “You’re at the Garrison Military Hospital. It was the closest one to the crash site and both you and the other kid were critically injured.” 

Shiro’s heart rate sped up and the beeping gave away his nerves. 

“Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine,” the nurse said seeing Shiro’s anxiety spike. “There should be no lasting damage.”

Shiro didn’t feel reassured. “What’s going to happen now?” 

“I’m not really sure. I’m just a nurse here to keep you alive. I do know the police and the Garrison want to talk to you.” 

Shiro tried to keep himself calm. He knew that this was a possibility. Still, he couldn’t help but think of all of the things that were going to happen to him. He was going to go to jail. He was never going to see Keith again. Hell, he would be lucky if he saw the outside of the cellhouse again. 

“I won’t tell them you’re awake, yet.” The nurse said, scribbling something onto the notepad. “I’ll let you talk to the therapist first. You guys look like you’ve been through some stuff and she’ll help you work through what happened and next steps, if the Garrison decides to take legal action.” 

Shiro was struck by the man’s kindness. Sure, he was a nurse so he was supposed to be nice. But, that didn’t mean that he had to do all of this for him, a foster kid who had broken several laws and probably made everyone’s lives a lot harder. 

He nodded, still trying to get his heart rate to come down and stave off the oncoming panic attack. 

“She’ll be here in a few minutes. Do you think you can hold on for that long?” The nurse asked. 

He nodded. 

“Alright. Is it okay that I stay with you until she gets here?” 

Shiro nodded again. 

“Okay.” The nurse sat down next to him. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the garrison pressing charges. They don’t seem like they’re too worried.”

“I stole and destroyed millions of dollars worth of equipment.” 

The nurse shrugged. “I still wouldn’t worry about it. There is such a thing as a self-defense plea.” 

The nurse continued to chatter on about the most inane topics and it honestly helped Shiro stay calm. The fact that Keith was okay was also helping. 

Soon enough, the therapist came in. She was pleasant towards Shiro and he felt like things were almost going right. Almost. If he was naive he would think that this horrible chain of events and bad luck was done. He’d leave the hospital and have a happy, normal life with parents who loved and didn’t beat him. Shiro was too old to be fooled by those thoughts any more. Kids like him didn’t get happy endings. This was all a trap, a trick that he refused to fall for. He’d answer their questions, do his time, and then try to live the rest of his life as far from CPS’s radar as possible. 

Except… Keith would be with them for awhile. He couldn’t abandon him. 

“You’re lucky,” the therapist said as they wrapped up their session. “The kid you were with isn’t saying a word.” 

Shiro’s head perked up. “What do you mean.” 

“I mean he refuses to talk about what happened. I would suggest you two start talking soon. Your foster father has not been so tight lipped and if only his story is told, you two might not be able to escape.”

He looked at his hands. He knew he was going to go to jail for what he did. He just had to make sure that Keith was placed somewhere safe. He’d have to talk. At least then it might get Keith out of Roger’s custody and somewhere better… safer.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. Shiro wasn’t allowed to see Keith and an endless parade of cops, detectives, and government officials came in and out of his room. He answered all of their questions without fuss, keeping his head bowed and hands clasped. He asked several times about Keith. The only person who would give him a straight answer was the nurse who was there when he woke up. 

“One of the Garrison staff members is talking to him.” 

Shiro felt his heart drop. 

“Don’t worry, though. Dr. Holt is a pretty nice guy. He’s got a kid around his age, I think.”

“Keith doesn’t like strangers.” Shiro said. 

“Yeah, but now that they have your statement, hopefully you kids will be able to get out of here, no problem.” 

A knock at the door sounded and Shiro looked up to see the man who had tased Roger standing there. So he hadn’t been imagining that gruff, almost cold exterior. Shiro’s heart rate monitor picked up and he cursed the stupid thing. He had developed quite the knack for keeping his exterior completely and totally calm; he just hadn’t figured out how to get his heart to mirror his face. 

“I need to get your statement,” the man said, sitting across from Shiro. Behind him was a uniformed officer. 

He had a choice, to trust this man or not. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t already been thrown in jail or why he was still at the Garrison hospital, despite him being stable enough to move offsite. 

“Um, okay. But first, tell me what happened to Keith.” He was surprised; his voice wasn’t shaky. It was strong and steady, almost commanding. He thought he saw the man smile, but it was so brief that he figured he was dreaming. Besides, the man didn’t look like his face could move in a way that would allow a smile. 

“He’s fine, relatively speaking. Concussion, a broken arm, broken ribs, cuts, scrapes, bruises. He’s healing fine but they’re going to keep him here until this mess is sorted out.” 

“What happens to him after this mess is sorted out?” Shiro asked. 

“Depends on what you say today.” 

Shiro didn’t like that he wasn’t getting a straight answer from the man, but he knew he had to put up with it if he had any hope of getting Keith away from Roger permanently. With that, he took a deep breath and launched into the story, everything he knew and everything he could remember. 

The man sat by his bed and didn’t interrupt. It was strange, Shiro was used to adults telling him how he felt and what he experienced. He was used to people downplaying what had happened to him and his own thoughts and opinions. He had no idea if this guy actually believed a word he said, but it was nice to talk with someone and have them listen, or at least, pretend to. He almost could believe that this might have a happy ending for him. 

When he was done, Shiro looked up. THe man was sitting down, hands clasped and looking pensive. 

“Are you going to charge me with a crime?” Shiro ventured to ask. 

The man sat back and studied him a bit more. 

“What were your plans for the future? Before all of this happened?” Iverson said, gesturing around the room.

“Sir?” 

“What were you planning? Surely you didn’t think you’d be staying with Sheppard forever?” 

Shiro looked at his hands. His plans were to go to Helena and try and see if he was good enough to get into the Garrison. He didn’t want to look like a fool. 

“Shirogane,” Iverson’s voice was sharp and left no room to argue. “Tell me what you were planning.” 

“Before Keith came, I was going to go to Helena, and try and see if I was good enough to get into the Garrison.”

“What program?”

“Flight, fighter class.” He felt stupid saying it outloud. 

Iverson hummed. “Really.” He stood up. “Well, Shiro. I have something I need to discuss with my colleagues. We’re not going to charge you with theft and some lawyers have offered to take up your case pro bono.”

He looked up, the flicker of hope that had never been extinguished in his chest started to burn a little brighter. It may not be perfect, but he might not have to suffer any longer. 

The man paused by the door, sighed, and turned to him. “You were amazing in the craft. Much better than most of my other cadets who are older than you. True, you punched Zarkoff in the face--”

Shiro felt a thrill of satisfaction go through him. It was likely this Zarkoff was related to the one in Montana. What were the odds of two Zarkoff’s being in the Garrison? Take that you homophobic piece of shit! 

“But you and the other kid worked beyond what we thought would be capable of someone without any previous experience.” 

“Thank you.” It may not end up giving him much, but the thought that Shiro may have been able to make something of himself if he had been given the chance was more than he could have dreamed of. 

“Right now, the idea is that we’d offer you a scholarship as a form of probation. This is a military institution after all and if you take it, that means that you’ll have an education and a job after you graduate.”

Wait, was he suggesting what Shiro thought he was suggesting? “You mean?”

“I don’t want you to slip through the cracks. Talent like yours only comes every so often. It is, of course, entirely up to you.” 

“What about Keith?” 

“There are a few friends and coworkers who have offered to take him. From our understanding, he didn’t do anything illegal.”

Good, so Keith had enough sense not to tell them about the knife attack. It seemed like all Shiro could do now was wait. However, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel anxious. He wasn’t worried about the future and what he could do to make it out alive. He had done everything he could. In a way, having less control and putting his fate into other people’s hands was almost more freeing. 

oOoOoOo

The next few days were a bit of a whirlwind for Shiro. He did manage to get to see Keith, who, to his horror, had so many bandages on him he looked like a mummy. Nevertheless, Keith looked happy to see him and they spent a good amount of time talking to one another. 

“What’s going to happen?” Keith asked. 

Shiro winced. He was hoping not to have this conversation. “What do you mean?” 

“You know, with the law and stuff. There’s been a lot of police officers here.” 

“I’m not sure yet.” Shiro wanted to tell him that he might have a shot at getting into the garrison. But he knew better than to give anyone false hope. It was cruel. 

He went back to his room not long after to see Commander Iverson, a few men in suits, a man in a garrison uniform, and some police officers standing around his bed. 

“Ah, Shirogane,” Iverson said, beckoning him forward. “I think we’ve reached an agreement on how to handle this.” 

“If you want to take it. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” One of the men in suits said. 

Iverson nodded. “Yes, exactly. I do strongly suggest you take it, though.” 

The police officer stepped forward. “Look, son,” 

He hated it when they called him son. The forced familiarity was always bad and made Shiro feel like they were manipulating him. 

“All of those stunts you pulled,” the officer continued, “are enough to put you in jail. The Garrison is offering you a full scholarship on the grounds that you reform yourself to be a model citizen.” 

Rage rose up in Shiro. “What do you mean, ‘model citizen’? I’m not the one who beat a kid so badly his eye swelled shut! I’m not the one who regularly threatened people with guns or threw plates at the wall when things didn’t go his way! I had to escape. Keith and I would have died if we had stayed with Roger. Don’t talk to me about being a model citizen. I just wanted to survive and not get punched every night.”

The police officer looked angry at the way he was being spoken to. But Shiro didn’t care. He was tired of trying to convince people that he was worth caring about, that he deserved to feel safe and loved. The garrison could go fuck itself for all he cared. He’d stay in jail and then he’d be used as a cautionary tale for the other kids in foster care. Don’t end up like Shiro. He got too greedy and now look at where he’s at. 

Iverson stepped forward. “Shirogane, we want you at the Garrison because you have real talent. You deserve to be in a place that helps you, not hurt you.” 

Shiro felt a jolt run through his body. “What?” Where they serious? Did they really think he has talent?

The other man in the Garrison uniform nodded. “No one is arguing that you did the right or wrong thing. In these situations, it’s hard to tell what the right thing is, especially when there are so many unknowns. What we do know is that you are a smart and talented individual. We want you here. If you decide to not take up our offer, we understand and wish you luck in finding a field that better suits your interests.” 

“But you did express to me that you were looking into joining the Garrison, which is why I assumed you’d jump at the chance.” Iverson continued. 

Shiro knew he should probably think about this some more. He should probably try and weigh pros and cons. He shouldn’t be so hasty. 

“Deal!” he said, almost in spite of himself. He finally had a chance to get away from everything, to prove he wasn’t trash. He was going to take it and be the best pilot the Garrison had ever seen. 

Iverson shook his hand. “Of course, we will need your record to be expunged. It could hinder your career if it were out in the open.” 

“Whatever you say,” Shiro was grinning. He couldn’t help himself. Finally things were looking up. 

oOoOoOo

“So that’s about it, really.” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck. The rest of the paladins (minus Keith) were staring at him with open mouths. 

“I didn’t think you could get any more awesome,” Lance said, “but somehow you managed.” 

Keith rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘suck-up’, but Shiro didn’t point it out. 

“Yeah, I was just doing what I had to, to survive.” He didn’t want to say that he reacted as anyone would, because everyone reacted to these types of situation differently, but he reacted nonetheless.

“Still, so many things are falling into place,” Pidge said. 

“Like what?” 

“How you were able to survive the Galra,” Hunk said. 

Oh, yeah, that. “I mean--”

“Or why you and Keith seem so close,” Lance added. 

“Well--”

“Or why Iverson actually likes you and doesn’t reprimand you all the time,” Keith muttered.

“Look, guys, I’m really not special--”

“A true hero, that’s what you are!” Allura’s eyes were shining and she was looking at him with a hopeful expression. 

Shiro sighed. They’d never truly understand. Also, the whole thing with Iverson actually liking him was a big lie. That man would reprimand him over anything. Shiro didn’t think he knew anything else. Oh well, it all worked out in the end.


End file.
